


Worship Me

by terma_archivist



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys, Xena: Warrior Princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-01-01
Updated: 2002-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atTER/MAand was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address onthe TER/MA collection profile.
Collections: TER/MA





	Worship Me

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).

  
**Worship Me  
by Gwendolen**

  
Slowly he moved through the Hall of War and looked around. He couldn't see anyone but that didn't necessarily mean that the Lord of the Hall wasn't present. He almost thought he could feel the gods presence, watching and waiting, vibrating through the whole room, filling it with his energy. 

He settled cautiously in the huge throne, leaning back, relaxing gradually when nothing happened. 

"I had a dream last night. I was walking along a beach, just wandering, not really caring where I was going, simply enjoying the peace and the comfort of the sea." He smiled at the memory and settled deeper into the throne, discovering that it was as uncomfortable as it looked. He swung his legs over one of the arms, trying to find a more comfortable position while he continued with his tale. 

"The peace was broken by someone screaming; a scream so full of anger and hatred that my first instinct was to flee, but curiosity won out. I went further along the beach until I reached a couple of cliffs, and on one huge bolder I saw a figure, a man, chained to the rock, struggling to free himself. As I went closer I saw that it was you." 

He noticed the change in the atmosphere of the dark hall, as if he was suddenly the focus of all the energy whirling around the room. 

"It was you. Someone had chained you to that rock. I moved closer, aware of the danger, but also fascinated by the picture you presented bound to that rock, wearing only your leatherpants and boots. You were fighting the chains that imprisoned you, your muscles bulging and your body covered in a fine sheet of sweat and sea-water. Wild and dangerous and beautiful. So beautiful." 

He felt himself growing hard by the picture he saw in his mind, by the memory of his dream. 

"Finally you noticed me. Your dark eyes burned into me, mesmerising me, taking me prisoner. 'Unchain me,' you demanded. I moved closer until I could almost touch you, even from this distance I could feel your heat, smell your sweat and I knew that unchaining you was the last thing I wanted to do." 

A low growl seemed to vibrate through the cavernous hall and he smiled at the reaction, knowing that he had an attentive listener. Shifting slightly to accommodate his erection he continued with his narrative. "I reached out to touch you, the dark hairs on your chest a temptation I could not resist. Your skin was hot from your struggles and cool from the fine sea-spray that now covered us both. You watched me with those incredible eyes— eyes I could easily drown in, that captured my soul a long time ago. 'Unchain me,' you again said but this time in a low, husky voice, more a plea than a demand. I shook my head slightly and leaned closer until my lips touched your skin. 'No, not yet,' I told you, my lips caressing your skin while I spoke. 

I placed a kiss on your chest and heard you gasp softly. I moved upwards, trailing kisses over your chest, your throat, until I reached your mouth. I briefly licked along your wonderful full lower lip but withdrew slightly when you tried to deepen the kiss. I looked at you and your eyes were burning, not with anger, but with the fire of passion instead. I kissed you. Deep. Hungrily. Demanding surrender and you gave it. Opening your mouth, letting me taste you, this addictive taste I have no words for, except that it's so totally you, dark and sweet at the same time." 

He paused for a moment, breathless and aroused by his own story. 

"You were so beautiful, spread out, helpless, waiting for me to come to you. To bring you pleasure...to worship you. And I? I wanted to give you everything you needed, wanted to worship you, make you whimper and scream with pleasure. And I did, exploring your body with my hands and lips, teasing your nipples with licks and bites, delighted in the way you writhed under my hands. Your skin had the salty taste of sea-water mixed with your sweat and that other elusive taste, that is you. I was like a starving man presented with a banquet. 

I probed your navel with my tongue and felt you shiver, heard you moan, demanding more. And I gave it to you, opening your pants, exposing you to the wind and the sun and to me. Your need was obvious, hard and demanding but I couldn't resist and had to tease you a bit more, soft kisses, tiny flicks of my tongue and gentle hints of bites. But I relented quickly and took you in deep. Your hoarse scream and the bucking of your hips were my reward, as your come would be. I knew you were close, I could feel it." He stopped and laughed softly, regretfully. "And of course, at that moment I had to wake up." 

The anticipation floating through the great hall, wrapping around him was almost tangible and for a moment he stayed where he was, eyes closed, just feeling. But then the sensation of being watched became overwhelming and he opened his eyes. The dark god stood in front of him, dressed in his customary black leathers, dark eyes burning, taking his breath away. 

He stared at the figure before him and at the chains Ares held out to him. "Worship me." 

~ The End ~ 

* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine, but the property of Renaissance Pictures.   
Did you like this? Feedback is always welcome at: Gwendolen: [email removed]   
March 1999   
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